


I'm Only Human

by AnonymousHime



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Chimera!Ed, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-01-08 15:30:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12257112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousHime/pseuds/AnonymousHime
Summary: Edward Elric had been missing for nearly a month. After countless sleepless nights and 24/7 investigation, Roy Mustang finally found him--but the state the boy was in left him almost wishing he hadn't.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you wondering if I can write anything that isn't Fullmetal Alchemist angst, the answer is no. So here's some more Ed in pain and Roy being an awkward father figure! For those of you following "Where is your blue coat now?", that will still be my priority fic until it's completed, so updates on this fic will be less frequent. Please check that one out if you haven't! Anyway... enjoy!  
> Happy October 3rd! #neverforget

Roy breathed heavily against the cold winter air, hiding in the shadows of the innocent-looking suburban household with his fingers poised to snap, Havoc and Hawkeye on either side of him with guns at the ready.

 

This was it. It had been nearly a month since Edward Elric had been officially reported MIA, and since then the military had been following false lead after false lead. Roy started to understand what the boys felt like on their journey for the Philosopher's Stone--constantly confronted with futile dead ends. But at last... they had a solid lead. Their *last* lead. The Fuhrer made him promise that, if no sustainable evidence was discovered on this mission, then he'd sign away the infamous Fullmetal Alchemist as KIA. He was exhausting military resources without a single fruitful lead.

 

The raven-haired man clenched his fist and steadied his breathing. Now, Roy was never the religious type... but he'd found himself praying the past few nights. Praying for Ed to be found alive, to be found safe... hell, just to be _found._ Edward _had_ to be in this damned house, dead or alive, or Roy will just crawl through the Gate and back to kick his pipsqueak ass.

 

Nodding to his team and giving the signal, the raid began.

 

Havoc kicked in the front door, Hawkeye through the back with Roy through a window as to have the entire room surrounded. It was dark and quiet, but not abandoned.

 

"Search for a basement," Roy whispered, and the two followed obediently while he began to investigate the living room.

 

It wasn't dirty, per se, but very untidy. Books were piled high on every surface, pencils messily strewn around, paper garbage littered the floo-- _thud!_

 

"Are you okay, sir?!" Hawkeye whispered urgently, appearing beside the man in the blink of an eye, Havoc close behind.

 

"Yeah," He mumbled, pulling himself up off the floor. "I just tripped on this damned rug."

 

"Sir, look." Hawkeye pointed urgently behind the man. He complied, observing the bundle of rug he pulled up with his foot to reveal...

 

"A door." He exhaled. Not wasting a second, the three pried open the wooden cover, revealing a staircase descending into darkness below. Mustang nodded once to his team before shakily gripping the ladder and taking the first few steps down, Hawkeye following after and Havoc after her. His feet touched the floor, cold enough that he could feel it radiating even through his boots. The room was still pitch black, but the smell was pungent enough to make them recoil. The only thing Roy could associate it with was a barn or maybe a horse stable.

 

Suddenly a light flickered into view, revealing that Hawkeye had found her flashlight. The room was now illuminated enough to make out the general contents... cages littered the floor, some empty while some held bones and feathers. Alchemy books were strewn across the floor, transmutation circles drawn intricately beside them, some fresh from what Roy could tell. Dried blood and scratch marks lined the walls, sending a chill down the man's spine. Whatever sins had been committed in this room... he began to question if he wanted to know. If he wanted to take another step, or just turn back now and simply pretend they didn't see anything. He really considered it, for a moment...

 

Then came the sound.

 

The raw, guttural _growl_ from the corner of the room.

 

Hawkeye's light immediately flashed towards it, revealing a large cage that actually had something _living_ in it.

 

The thing was curled up on its side, apparently in pain, hiding itself in its massive, mangled wings. Its ragged feline tail twitched as its sharp nails clawed at its restraints--chains around its neck, wrists and ankles. It made the noise again, but it came out as more of a whine than a growl this time.

 

None of them spoke a word, only released shaky breaths as Hawkeye hesitantly stepped closer, illuminating the figure more clearly.

 

As the light became brighter in the creature's cage, it took notice and stopped the frantic clawing. Cautiously, it lowered its wing to take a better look at the source.

 

Frightened golden eyes met onyx and nausea hit Roy like a train.

 

"...Fullmetal?"

 

\---

 

Horrifying. That was the only way to describe the mutual feeling in the room. A numb petrification from the three soldiers who took in the scene... and rabid terror from the boy who held no recognition in his eyes as he screeched and threw himself into the corner, banging his head painfully on the metal cage in the process. Roy jumped to action, numbing his brain and just moving because he couldn't afford to think or feel right now. The kid needed out, _now._

 

"Hang on, Fullmetal, it's just us. We're getting you out."

 

He tugged on his glove, lifting it to the cage's lock and snapping. The metal sizzled and melted to the ground, and Roy ripped the door open.

 

"Be careful, Sir." Hawkeye warned hoarsely, but it fell on deaf ears as the Colonel proceeded towards the boy.

 

As she'd predicted, as soon as the raven-haired man got closer, the blonde lashed out. Clawed hands swiped at the Colonel's face, an animalistic growl rising from his throat, but the fear lacing it was imminent. Roy managed to dodge just in time, instinctively reaching out to grab the boy's wrists to stop the clawing.

 

"Fullmetal." He whispered, receiving nothing but tugging and a shriek that made his heart lurch in response. " _Edward._ Calm down, it's me. It's Mustang, and Havoc, and Hawkeye. We're here to get you out."

 

The boy's breathing slowed, wide eyes observing the man's pale face.

 

"C-Colonel...?" His voice was definitely Edward's, but it was... wrong. Raw, strained, and shaking.

 

"Yeah, Ed, its me. You're safe now."

 

Tears started streaming down the boy's face--that's all he was, just a _boy_ , fifteen years young--and Roy felt truly ready to vomit.

 

"Boss," Havoc's voice pierced the air, "I searched the area. Whoever did this is long gone."

 

Roy coughed, regaining some composure. "Ignore that for now. Hawkeye, go start the car. Havoc, help me with Fullmetal."

 

Hawkeye was already up the ladder by the time Roy willed his shaking hands to have enough control to melt the restraints off of the boy's neck, wrists, and ankles, revealing angry red marks where they'd rubbed his skin raw.

 

"Hang on, Ed, we're going to lift you up now."

 

It was strange trying to wrap his arm around the large, bony wings protruding from the boy's back. But he managed, eventually, and with Havoc's help he heaved the painfully light boy up and out of the basement that had become his personal hell for the past month. When he got the boy back in his arms to carry him the rest of the way to the car, he had gone completely limp.

 

"Dammit," Roy whispered as he heaved the unconscious boy into the back seat of the military car, resting the blonde head in his lap as he sat down.

 

"Hospital, sir?" Hawkeye inquired.

 

"No. My house. We'll call Marcoh when we get there."

 

"Boss--" Havoc started to protest, but the dangerous glint in Mustang's eye shut him up.

 

"As far as we're all concerned, we found nothing in the house to lead us to Fullmetal, and thus I will be officially listing him as KIA. Understood?"

 

"...Yes, sir." He responded solemnly.

 

Silence overwhelmed the car as Hawkeye drove off, the only interruption throughout the ride being ragged breaths emitting from the boy.

 

\---

 

Everything went by in a blur--they got Edward to bed, Marcoh arrived and examined him--providing Roy with too much information to process--and now they were here. Exhausted, sickened, and gathered around the unconscious form of what the Fullmetal Alchemist had become.

 

"What do you plan to do with him?" Marcoh asked bluntly.

 

"Keep him here, under the radar. If the military finds out about him, he'll certainly be trapped in a lab somewhere for the rest of his life."

 

"So you're content with him living in hiding for the rest of his life, trapped here instead of there?"

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"He's trapped either way, Colonel. That's assuming he even has much life left on him. You heard me explain his condition to you, did you not? His insides are all messed up. Some sort of weird mishmash of his and the animals' organs. I can't guarantee how long he'll last with that."

 

"What're you getting at, Marcoh?"

 

"I'm getting at the fact that there are more... _humane_ ways I can handle this that you should consider. I can euthanize him. He doesn't have to suffer--"

 

"He's not some dog to be put down!"

 

"Well he's certainly less than human! Does he deserve to live like that?"

 

"How _dare_ you--!" Roy felt his fingers curl to snap, but a firm grasp on his shoulder snapped him out of it.

 

"Colonel." The female voice warned.

 

"...Get the hell out of my house, Marcoh." Roy exhaled. "We'll call you if we need you. Don't let anyone see you leave."

 

"You don't have to tell me twice." The doctor grunted, grabbing his bag and coat and swiftly exiting through the back door. Roy let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, shrugging his lieutenant's hand off of his shoulder.

 

"He's only trying to help, sir. You know he's a blunt man."

 

"There's a difference between being blunt and suggesting we _kill a child_ \--"

 

"I think he's waking up." Havoc alerted, drawing all attention back to the boy in the Colonel's guest bed. His eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes rolling beneath their lids. His mouth opened and took a heavy intake of breath before his eyes finally flickered awake.

 

"Edward, can you hear me?"

 

He got a groan in response, his eyes flickering open slowly and giving Roy a thoughtful glance, recognition in his eyes for only a brief moment.

 

Then it all went to hell.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for bearing with me with these slow updates. I think I’m coming to accept that I just can’t write quality work quickly, especially not while working full-time. So, I’m going to go ahead and give an official slow update warning for both of my current works. I really appreciate everyone’s patience with me and I’ll really try to get more out, fast! I just don’t want to disappoint anyone, so I won’t promise anything yet. Thanks again, everyone... and enjoy this chapter!

It started with a shrill screech from the wide-eyed boy, launching himself upwards in the bed, making Roy wince as the sudden motion made the attached medical equipment clatter. The boy breathed heavily as his wild eyes shot from person to person, his form shaking as he took in the room.

Then he bolted.

The scene went by nearly in slow motion--Edward barely made it far, his flesh leg giving out and crumpling beneath him, his IV line tearing and crashing to the floor beside him making him shriek once again. Havoc, Riza, and Roy all ran at him at once, trying to calm him, but his dangerous growl and a swipe of his clawed hand kept them at bay. He spread his shaggy wings in another escape attempt, flapping them but gaining no air, only succeeding in smashing a lamp and a vase, the noise startling the boy _even more_.

Roy was overwhelmed by the situation to say the least. Luckily for him, Riza was there.

"Edward," She spoke gently, loudly enough for him to hear but softly enough to soothe him. "It's us. You're in the Colonel's house. Remember? We found you earlier and took you away from that place. You're safe now."

He watched her intently, chest rising and falling harshly, his brain slowly processing the meaning of the words she spoke. He shuddered weakly, his thin chest letting out a slow exhale, and he sank onto his side.

"Chief? Are you back with us?" Havoc gulped, approaching the boy. The blonde nodded in response, exhausted.

"You're fine, Ed." Roy spoke up at last, slowly reaching his arm out to grasp the boy's shoulder, "Let's get you back into bed."

He groaned in pain as the two men lifted him upwards, doing almost all the work as he attempted to follow limply. As soon as he felt the softness of the mattress beneath him, he sunk right into it, taking deep breaths to calm his heavily beating heart.

"You're safe now," Riza reaffirmed softly as she sat on the edge of the bed, "We're here."

"I'm sorry," The young boy muttered, appearing to not have fully returned to coherency yet as he stared blankly at the ceramic pieces scattered along the floor. "I made a mess."

"It's alright, I was looking for an excuse to dispose of that horrid vase. I hated it, but it was a gift so I felt guilty getting rid of it myself. You did me a favor." Roy smiled awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood and ultimately failing as Ed flinched at his attempted humor. He coughed.

“...I want to go home, now.” The boy spoke, a weak crack in his throat.

After an exchange of wary looks between the soldiers, Edward raised an eyebrow.

“Edward... you can’t.” Roy explained gently, _too_ gently for Edward’s comfort. “As far as the outside world is concerned, you’re... well, you’re dead.”

“What the _hell_ —?!” The boy seethed, launching himself fully upright and beginning to swing his legs over the bed. “What do you mean, bastard?! I’m alive, I’m right here!”

“Sit back down.” Roy ordered as the blonde-haired alchemist made his way fully to his feet. “You need to _listen_.”

Hesitantly, the exhausted boy obeyed, slumping down onto the edge of the bed.

“Of course you’re alive and here. You know that, and we know that, but the military can’t know that. You’re smart enough to figure this out, Ed. If they find out that there’s a living, successful human chimera—don’t you think that they’ll do anything in their power to get their hands on you? And then what do you think they’ll do?”

Roy sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I have a meeting with the Fuhrer tomorrow, to give a mission report and list you as KIA. We can tell a few select people—Al, for instance—that you’re alive... but otherwise, you need to stay undercover with me. At least until this blows over and we can sneak you to somewhere more comfortable, like Resembool.“

“So... so Al hasn’t heard, yet?”

“No, and the plan is to send Havoc on a train tonight to tell him in person. The military thinks we’re sending him to tell your family of your death, but it’s quite the opposite.”

“Can he...” Edward coughed, “Can he only tell Al? At least for now. I don’t want Winry and Granny to know I’m alive, yet.”

“What? Why not?”

“Do I have to explain myself to you? You said I can decide who we tell.”

“Are you really okay with your family thinking you’re dead? Isn’t that unnecessarily harsh on them?”

“Why the hell are you talking as if you know my family, you bastard?!”

“I’m just asking you to think it through, before I send Havoc off. You’re upset right now, so you need to calm down and rationally decide who you do and don’t want to tell.”

“I _am_ thinking rationally, you son of a—“ Ed snapped, only to stop as his eyes rolled back and a hand flew up to his forehead. He rubbed at it, shaking his head profusely despite it causing him obvious pain. Then he started scratching, his sharp claws digging into his scalp and blood trickling down his face.

“Edward!” Riza called, running towards him to restrain his hand. The boy snarled at the contact, flinching back into the bed, drool dripping from his lips as his eyes darted wildly. Riza placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him down, holding him down. The two men ran into action and restrained other parts of his body as he jerked and growled.

“Come on, kid, you’re hurting yourself!” Havoc shouted, having no issue restraining the starving boy. Edward was sweating in drops that mixed with the blood on his forehead, panting heavily. He had barely thrashed around and he was already exhausted.

His eyes widened slightly, the intelligence and recognition flooding back into them and Roy realized he truly wasn’t Ed in the seconds prior. He mentally labeled the two versions of the boy as Ed and Not Ed, and noted that he’d have to ask Marcoh about it. The blonde boy exhaled heavily and collapsed limply onto the bed.

“...Let’s let him sleep, sir.” Hawkeye suggested, pulling herself away from the unconscious boy and beginning to fix the blankets around him. Roy nodded in agreement, sighing as he straightened himself.

“He’s starving, though.” Havoc mumbled, not really protesting as much as he was just stating a fact

“His body’s too tired to keep anything down right now, anyway. We’ll try in the morning.” Roy hummed. “Havoc, continue with the plan as usual. Call us when you arrive at the train station in the morning and we’ll let you know if his wishes change. Dismissed.”

“Yes, sir.” Havoc saluted tiredly, before grabbing the small suitcase he had packed earlier and heading down the stairs. After he left, the silence in the room weighed in, the only sound being the gentle wheezes from the sleeping boy. Mustang collapsed into the armchair in the corner of the room, and Hawkeye sat upon the foot of the bed.

“Stay here tonight, Riza.” The raven haired man muttered, dropping formalities as it was virtually just the two of them in the room.

“Alright. I’ll sleep on the floor in here and supervise Edward.”

“No, I will. I can sleep anywhere.”

“We both know that’s a lie, Roy. You toss and turn if you’re anywhere but your own bed.”

“Not anymore.” He responded defensively, “I’ve grown out of that.”

“Well,” She said stiffly, “If you’re so sure, then I suppose I’ll take you up on that offer.”

In that moment, Roy knew what she was doing. She was teaching him a lesson in his own stubbornness.

And, as always, Riza Hawkeye was very right.

It had been hours, he’d presumed, since he’d first attempted sleep on a pile of blankets and pillows beside the bed Edward was unconscious upon. He stared exhaustedly up at the ceiling, his body begging for rest but his brain just not allowing it. And so, he was promptly punished for his stubbornness and inability to admit his own needs by being forced to listen to every whimper and tortured murmur from the blonde boy’s lips. Every ‘ _no_ ’, every ‘ _please stop_ ’, and every bit of pained gibberish that came out of the teen’s mouth.

Roy felt a pain in his chest, and decided that leaving the room and getting coffee suddenly sounded like a very, very good idea.

—-

When the sun rose, so did the Lieutenant. She briskly raised herself and swung her legs over the bed, attempting to fix her wrinkly black shirt and blue military pants before leaving the room.

She sighed when she found her Colonel passed out at his kitchen table next to a half-downed cup of coffee. Striding towards him, she grabbed his shoulder and gave it a solid shake. He snorted as he awoke, and she had to hold back an amused smirk.

“It’s morning, Roy. We need to go check on Edward.”

He rubbed his eyes and attempted to figure out where he was and why, but before he could, Riza had a tight fist on his jacket and was leading the groggy man upright.

When they arrived in the guest bedroom, Edward was already beginning to stir. The blonde sat on the bed beside the boy, whispering words to help coax him into consciousness. Finally, he blinked his eyes open and stared at the pair.

“Good morning, Edward. How do you feel?”

They got a grunt in response.

“Okay. I’m going to go heat up some broth and find some bread for you, okay? You need to try eating. While I’m doing that, the Colonel will help you bathe.”

Roy coughed uncomfortably, and the teen looked just as upset at the notion, but they both knew the dirt caked on his skin was only making things worse and he couldn’t bathe alone in this state. And so, Riza left, Roy grabbed his arm, and they began towards the bathroom. They got inside, and Roy closed the door behind them.

“Get undressed, I won’t look but let me know if you need help. I’m going to start filling the tub.”

Roy turned to do just as he stated, feeling the water as it poured in to make sure it was a good temperature for the wounded boy. After a long time without sound or motion, Roy cautiously turned to face the teen. He hadn’t made to undress at all.

He was staring into the mirror, and he was crying.

Roy felt a punch in his gut. Of course, the boy hadn’t actually seen himself yet. He watched silently as the boy’s widened eyes scanned himself, disgust evident on his face as he took note of every new feature forced onto his body. He slowly made to raise his hands to touch his face, as if to see if it was real, and his eyes quickly caught sight of the bloodied claws adorning his flesh hand. The tears spilled faster, his shaking worsened, and older man couldn’t even decipher the complex emotion etched into the boy’s face.

Then he fell to his knees, grasped the toilet bowl, and retched.

“Ed!” The Colonel quickly ran to the teen’s side, kneeling beside him as he coughed and emptied the clear acid that was the only thing even in his stomach. Once that was gone, he dry-heaved, and Roy cautiously attempted to pat his back.

“Edward, take deep breaths.” The boy attempted to follow the order, inhaling shakily. “You’re fine.”

“I’m not!” The teen screeched suddenly, flinching away when the Colonel awkwardly moved to pat his back. “I’m not fine!”

“Yes, you are. You’re safe. We won’t let anything else happen to you.”

“ _Look at me!_ ” The boy screamed, desperation in his voice as he searched Roy’s face for something. Fear, disgust, anything other than the genuine concern that was currently embedded in his features. “Can’t you see me, Mustang?!”

“Yes, I can see. I can see that you’re Edward Elric, the same short brat with a shorter temper that you’ve always been.”

Edward’s wide, red eyes stayed locked with Mustang’s as he collapsed against the side of the toilet. He’d barely been up and he already wore himself out, Roy mused. Yet he was crying even harder than before, for some reason. Gently reaching for the boy’s arm, Roy positioned him upright and began to undress the boy, forgoing modesty for efficiency before the water got cold. He slung the blonde’s metal arm over his shoulder, scooping him up all too easily and setting him in the tub. He got no reaction from the boy, even as he started to help wash him. He just stared up at the ceiling, eyes blank and still profusely watering. Roy figured it was better, in a way—if the boy was fully aware of the situation right now, it’d be all the more embarrassing for the both of them. So he pushed the concern to the back of his mind and kept scrubbing at the dried dirt and blood caking the pale skin until the water started turning muddy. The next big concern—the boy’s wings. They were just as dirty as the rest of him, but he honestly had no idea how to clean them. If he scrubbed at them, surely it’d hurt. He stood, told Ed he’d be right back, and promptly returned with a small bowl. He filled the sink with fresh, warm water and scooped some up in the bowl, pouring it over the boy’s left wing. That got him an immediate reaction—a small jump followed by a shake of the wing.

“Did that hurt?” Roy asked cautiously.

The boy shook his head no, so he continued, pouring water over the delicate feathers and gently wiping with a washcloth. Once Roy decided that would be about as good as they could get for the day, he began to drain the tub L grab a towel for the boy. The sudden chill as the warm water left his body seemed to bring him somewhat back to consciousness, as he was now hiding his reddened face and wiping furiously at his flowing tears. Roy coughed, gently tossing him the towel.

“Wrap yourself up, I’ll find something for you to wear.”

He swiftly made his way to his own bedroom, opening his drawer of basic t-shirts and pajama pants. The kid weighed 90 pounds wet at his normal health, and now he was severely emaciated, so he knew his own clothes would be much too big—but he had to wear something, so he grabbed the tightest clothes he owned and nodded at them triumphantly. Then he remembered... wings and tail. So he grabbed a pair of scissors and got to work.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you all so much for the kudos and comments on this story! As always, I apologize for slow updates, but rest assured I already have the next chapter planned out and started so hopefully it'll release faster than the last ones. Happy reading!

Edward felt wrong. Even after the long bath and thorough scrubbing, as he laid shivering in the empty tub, he just felt... disgusting. A crime against nature, with parts of animals cropped and pasted onto him like some psychopath’s jigsaw puzzle. The wings protruding from his shoulder blades—their feathers the same gold as his hair—ached at the joints as he attempted to stretch them out. His flesh hand felt out of place as claws took the place of fingers, and for once he was grateful he only had one flesh arm. He shifted awkwardly to try to get a better position to rest his tail—which he probably hated the most. It was long, painful, and annoying to sit around.

But the worst was inside of him.

His brain pounded, disjointed thoughts and feelings that weren’t his own rushed through his mind, fighting for dominance. Edward figured that these were the brains of the poor animals transmuted into him, all fighting now against his own consciousness, trying to overrun him with instincts and gibberish thoughts he couldn’t interpret. They wouldn’t stop, they never left him alone, and he hated it.

“Edward, did you hear me?”

The blonde looked up briskly, being pulled from his train—or trains—of thought.

“I said I got you clothes. Here.” The raven haired man offered the folded garments, which Edward gingerly took. Then he looked at them closer and wanted to vomit again.

“I’m not going to wear these. There’s holes in them.” His face was red, with anger or embarrassment, Roy couldn’t tell. All he knew is that he made a mistake.

“I _put_ holes in them, Ed.” He started, cautiously. “Even if you’re stubborn enough to handle the discomfort, I don’t have anything big enough that you could stuff the wings under.”

Ed twitched. Roy did something wrong, again. Damn idiot.

“I don’t want these. I want normal clothes.”

“Well then,” He straightened himself, towering above the boy. “You can put those on, or you’re free to go get your food from Hawkeye whilst naked.”

Unsurprisingly, Roy shortly ended up helping the boy ease into the clothes he’d brought and guiding him into bed, where Riza sat patiently with a tray of the previously promised food. Edward’s stomach twisted at the sight of it, and he grew nauseous just at the thought of attempting to eat. But, he knew it was a necessity that he would not be allowed to forgo, so he accepted the tray without protest. He grasped the spoon with his flesh hand, only to promptly drop it as it slipped against his clawed fingers. He awkwardly attempted to subtly switch to his automail hand, but the attention was all on him now. His face was red as he tried to ignore the stares.

“Do you need help?” Hawkeye asked cautiously.

“Hell no! Forget it, I’m not hungry!” Ed snapped suddenly, tossing the spoon down.

“Fullmetal!” Roy stood, “Do not speak to the Lieutenant in such a tone. You’re starving and we all know it. She’s trying to be kind and your attitude isn’t appreciated!”

The boy flinched and Roy immediately regretted his force. Edward looked like a dog, cowering with his tail tucked between his legs. The morbid realization that that thought wasn’t too far from the truth made Roy feel like he’d been punched in the chest.

“What I mean is... she’s just worried.” Roy‘s voice relaxed, his shoulders sagging. “We all are.”

“I’m sorry.” The boy muttered.

“Don’t be,” Riza soothed. “You don’t have to accept my help if you don’t want it. But the offer is always there.”

“I’m... fine, really. I can just use my automail hand.” As if to prove the point, Edward started spooning the liquid into his mouth. It made his stomach hurt immediately.

“That reminds me, Ed. Havoc will be calling any minute now... we’ll need to know what you want him to tell your family.”

“I told you last night what I want said to them. Al can know I’m alive. Winry and Granny can’t. Not yet.”

“I was hoping you would’ve changed your mind. Is that truly your final answer?”

“Yes. I don’t expect you to understand it, Mustang. I just ask you to respect it.”

“...Okay. I’ll let Havoc know.” He stared at the floorboards, his mind debating how to approach the next topic. “So I’ll need to find you an automail mechanic. Someone underground.”

“No. I can fix it myself.” He stared into his bowl of soup and all at once he just... remembered. Hands on his automail, foreign hands, rubber gloves and tools picking it apart, learning it all.

“Ed, I know nothing of automail but I know enough to say this isn’t just maintenance. You’ll need it looked at by a professional.”

Then the man figured it out, how to detach it without damaging the port. So he detached. And reattached. Pain, searing in his nerves and dotting black into his vision. Detach, reattach, pain. Detach, reattach, pain. The man wanted information of some sort, that’s why he was doing this... but Ed couldn’t even remember what he had wanted to know through the pain fogging his thoughts. So he just screamed.

“Edward? Edward, can you hear me?” The female voice was warped, like he was listening underwater. Maybe he *was* underwater? His face felt wet.

“No!” He forced out at last, voice shaking. “Nobody can touch it!”

Hawkeye promptly removed the tray from the bed when Ed began thrashing. Digging his claws into the sheets, he kicked the bed and banged his head against the headboard, growling as drool dripped from his mouth. He felt rough hands on him, wrapping around him and forcing his head against a warm chest like a human straightjacket. He didn’t know which human it was, just that humans meant pain, and he wanted it _off of him._

“No!” Was the only word his brain could form, blending into the garbled sounds and raw instincts flooding his brain. “ _No!_ ”

It just wouldn’t stop touching him, trapping him, _hurting_ him. His—no, _their_ brain howled at him in warning. He tried to tell himself he was safe and just with Mustang and Hawkeye. But the animals fighting for dominance over his brain were inconsolable, their instincts in overdrive. Pain. Get away. _Get off!_

He hears a pained shout and tastes iron seeping into his mouth. He only snaps back to his senses just long enough to see the Colonel grasping his neck in pain before his body finally exhausts and the world fades to black.

—-

Alphonse Elric had felt his heart sink down to the pit of his stomach as he watched the familiar blonde soldier stride up to the Rockbell house, where he sat on the front porch with a book in hand and scratching Den’s ears. Havoc was here to see him, and that could only mean one thing.

“...He’s dead, isn’t he?” His metallic voice rang with a slight shake.

“Al, can your family hear us out here?” Havoc skipped greetings all together and cut to the chase. Hawkeye, voice somewhat frantic, had confirmed Edward’s wishes on Havoc’s phone call from the station. She then abruptly hung up, but not before explaining that the Colonel was hurt. How, he didn’t know, but when he tried to ring again there was no response. He’d have to try and call back later.

But, for now, there was a task at hand.

“N-no,” Al responded warily.

“Good. Your brother isn’t dead, Al. But only you can know that.”

“He’s... he’s not? Wait, why only me? We have to tell Winry and Granny—!”

“No, Al! Please hear me out.” Havoc shushed the boy, grabbing onto his metal arm. “Your brother... well, he’s been experimented on. He’s... a Chimera, Alphonse. He can’t be found out by the military. Mustang smuggled him into his house and is having him listed as KIA today. If too many people find out, your brother will be in danger. It’s just you, me, Mustang, and Hawkeye. Understood?”

“He’s...” The book fell from the boy’s gloved hand, his other falling limp beside the dog’s head. “He’s a...?”

The door swung open.

“Al, come on, it’s time for lunch—oh. Hello.” Winry cocked an eyebrow in his direction, and then towards the shaking Alphonse with his head in his hands.

“Hello, Miss Winry. Mind if I come in?”

Speechless, she opened the door to allow him room to enter. Her grandmother was sitting in a rocking chair in the corner, a pipe hanging from her mouth that was giving Havoc the itch to smoke himself. Something to take the edge off would be nice.

“What’s this about?” The older woman asked gruffly, and Havoc straightened his back.

“I regret to inform you that Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, has been killed in action.”

—-

“Roy!” Riza exclaimed, grabbing a towel from the bedside and clamping it to the Colonel’s bleeding neck.

After carefully placing the boy in his arms down onto the bed, he took the towel from Riza and applied pressure to his wound.

“Let me see.” The Lieutenant reached to lift the towel, but the Colonel already had. There were four large puncture wounds and several smaller ones littering his neck where the boy had bitten him, blood pouring from the spots where the flesh was torn. He reapplied the cloth, hoping to stop the bleeding quickly.

“You might need a hospital.”

“That’s out of the question. What would I even tell them?

“You’re right. I’ll get a first-aid kit and see what I can do.”

“Lieutenant, I have my meeting with the Fuhrer in an hour. What are we going to do?”

“I’ll be fast, you should be able to make it.”

And fast she was, after grabbing the kit and answering Havoc’s call, she was back in Roy’s spare room with bandages and alcohol.

“I take it that’s not for drinking,” Roy drawled.

“You guessed correctly.” Riza replied, “Lay on your side.”

He obeyed hesitantly, leaning against the arm of his chair, allowing her access to the wound and immediately regretting it as a wet cloth replaced his dry(ish) one and the sting was immediate. He tried to hold his tongue as the Lieutenant wiped his skin, only letting out one sharp inhalation of breath as the sterile alcohol entered the wounds. He kept his eyes shut as he felt a thick bandage wrapped around his neck a few times over.

“You’re all set. That should last through your meeting, at least. Hopefully you won’t be needing stitches, because that is far from my level of expertise.”

“Thanks, Lieutenant. I need to get going. You sure you have Ed under control by yourself?”

“I doubt he’ll even wake up before your return. We’ll be fine,” She nodded, “Good luck.”

—-

Havoc figured he probably deserved the slap in the face from the hysteric young blonde. Kicking him in the shin was overkill, though.

“Th-this is all y-your fault!” She hiccuped, “You st-stupid military... you think y-you can just waltz o-on in, in your f-fancy blue uniforms, and pull ch-children from their homes and r-ruin their lives?! Th-their families’ l-lives?!

“Winry, stop.” The older woman in the rocking chair said sternly, staring blankly towards their general direction with clear tears rimming her eyes. “He’s been deceived, too. Just a pawn in their selfish game of life.”

Havoc wanted to clench his fist at the blatant insult, yet, he knew there was truth in it. The girl fell to the floor beside his feet as she struggled to breathe through her sobs. He moved to comfort the girl, but he knew it would only upset her more, so he refrained and stood straight once again.

“If you’re a pawn, then may I ask where your King is?” Granny Pinako spit, voice beginning to shake—in anger or grief or both, Havoc didn’t know. “If he took Edward away and lead him to his death, isn’t it the least he could do to actually show up and deliver the news?”

“Colonel Mustang is currently in Central trying to make arrangements. The military will want Edward to have a soldier’s funeral. The Colonel is trying to convince them to let us do a small service here, next to his mother. Isn’t that what he would’ve wanted?”

“Not like that bastard ever cared about what Edward _wanted_ —!”

“Ma’am.” Havoc stepped forward, “I think we have some misunderstandings to clear, here. Say what you want about me, but do not insult the Colonel, who worked until he near fainted every night and has lost half his weight because he felt he couldn’t even halt his search for one minute, even just to eat.”

The older woman’s eyes widened, and another sob wracked through the girl’s body. This time, he gave in, kneeling on the floor and placed a single hand on her back. Neither of them said a word, so he took it as invitation to continue.

“I’m truly sorry we couldn’t find him soon enough. But please don’t treat the Colonel like he didn’t even try, because he wasted away from trying, and if we hadn’t found Edward’s body, the Colonel wouldn’t have s _topped_ trying until it was _his_ body we were finding. Edward was family to you, more so than to us, so your grief and anger is absolutely valid. But please understand... even if for a short time, he was a part of our family, too.”

Havoc soon found water beginning to pool in his own eyes. Damn, the kid wasn’t even really dead. But seeing what they *had* found...

“I-I’m sorry I k-kicked y-you...” He heard the faintest of voices from beneath him, drawing his attention back towards her.

“No... _I’m_ sorry.”

A broken body with hardly any human pieces left. His chest harshly rising and falling as his rescuers talked him down from his panic.

“He’s really... gone, isn’t he?”

Pure, feral horror in dulled golden eyes. The semblance of a boy they once knew but couldn’t save in time. Not truly.

“Yes. He’s gone.”

It wasn’t a lie.

The girl beneath him screamed, loudly, angrily at the world around her. He wanted to, as well, as he saw Edward’s broken, dismembered and disgustingly reconstructed body burned into his brain. But what truly made him wish to cry out was the fear in the boy’s face, stripped of his notorious courage by a selfish man with a selfish goal. He wanted to scream out to the universe how much he hated that disgusting, vile, waste of oxygen and how he hoped he isn’t dead yet just so he can kill him himself. He wanted to shout it all from the the rooftops.

He settled for letting a single tear stream down his face.

—

Roy caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the Fuhrer’s window... blood was seeping through his bandages in a few places, the circles under his eyes were darker than he’d seen since Ishval, and he swore he could spot a few graying hairs. This wasn’t the ideal appearance to show in front of the Fuhrer, but it would have to do.

“Mustang.” Grumman’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “What happened to your neck?”

“A minor injury during the mission, sir.”

“I feel like I know what answer is coming, but... what exactly did you find, Colonel?”

“No body, but evidence that Fullmetal was there and has... perished, sir.“

“I’m... sorry, Mustang. I know that all of your subordinates mean a lot to you, but the youngest especially so. We don’t have any important cases for you right now, so how about you and your team take a few weeks of bereavement? Everything else can wait.”

“Sir, I...”

“I insist. I know you’re a hard worker, but look at yourself. The whole lot of you are skin and bones, barely awake as you stand. Just take two weeks.”

“...Yes, sir. Thank you.”

—-

Even from the short walk back to his townhouse, Roy’s back ached. Maybe his team *was* right about him overworking himself. Of course, he wouldn’t admit that to them. Sighing, he turned his house key and stepped inside.

“Riza, I’m home—what the hell?!”

Roy gaped at the state of his living room. His couch was on its back, a tea cup shattered beside the coffee table, and yellow feathers were *everywhere*. After a brief moment of panic, he quickly found his Lieutenant, crouched in the corner and whispering to a shaking, sobbing Edward.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! The lovely combo of full time job + school + depression has been kicking my butt recently, so I apologize for the slow updates. I’ve been spending 90% of my free time sleeping lol... but I’ve gotten a lot of positive comments for this work, so I’m going to try my best to keep devoting more time to it! Enjoy!

“Riza... Riza, what’s going on?” Roy attempted to whisper as to not disturb the hushed scene before him, but Edward’s eyes shot upwards at him and his expression was akin to a deer in the headlights. The boy’s shaking turned to quaking as tears poured faster than before, and all Roy could manage was a quirked eyebrow before Edward pushed away from Riza’s gentle touch and sprinted for the door. Roy was stunned for a brief moment, his reaction to get to the boy delayed, but it was soon clear that it didn’t matter. Edward’s weight fell beneath him, landing him face-down in the middle of the living room. The two soldiers rushed towards him, the Colonel gripping the boy around his stomach in attempts to lift him. He got a guttural scream in response, as the boy kicked and tried to pry out of the older man’s grip.

“Ed. Ed, we need you to breathe. Please.” The Lieutenant pleaded, and as if a switch was flipped, the boy fell limp in the Colonel’s arms, now leaving nothing but a sniffling and hiccuping mess.

“Can you speak, Ed? What’s wrong, does anything hurt?” The Colonel urged, flipping the boy around so they were face-to-face.

“K...ki...” Sobs. Hiccups.

“Take your time, Edward.” The Lieutenant added softly.

“K-kill me. Pl...ease. _Please_.”

Roy nearly dropped the boy, his mouth falling slightly agape, and he might as well have been punched in the gut with his inability to take in more breath, his lungs fighting him and pain flaring in his chest. This was punishment, he knew. Truth wasn’t done with either of them yet, and the realization made Roy feel a complex cocktail of emotions that his brain wasn’t able to process at the moment, leading them to translate into one thing: anger. Equivalent Exchange? To hell with that. Edward... what had he done, truly? What had he, a child who only missed his mother and happened to stumble across an alchemy book, really done to deserve such a fate? Is this equivalence? Is a boy just wanting to see his mother again truly a crime worth the punishment he’s been dealt now? Were the limbs not enough? Was his brother’s body not enough? Would any of this truly be _enough_ for the sick self-named god that is Truth, or did he just take pleasure in making people suffer?

Or... was it not Edward’s punishment at all? The thought sickened Roy. Were the people around him being punished to atone for _his_ crimes? Perhaps, he reasoned, it was a small price to pay in Truth’s eyes. Roy had destroyed thousands of lives, after all, what was one boy’s life in comparison? He knew it was selfish. How could one kid possibly mean more to him than the hundreds he’s killed? How could he so selfishly choose someone he cares for and so hypocritically curse at Truth for mistreating him? It was Roy’s own fault, after all. It was _all_ his fault.

Like hell if it was fair, though.

“Don’t.” Roy choked out, his hands shaking as he gripped on to the boy’s shirt. “Don’t you _dare_ , Edward Elric.”

“Roy...” Riza warned, dropping formalities to emphasize her point. But Roy was an idiot, and everything was already his fault anyway, so he might as well dig his grave deeper.

“You went to hell and back and performed the taboo, you’ve been to hell and back _again_ trying to right that wrong, you’ve saved countless lives, and you’ve had us searching sleeplessly to get you back to us so don’t you _dare_ suggest we waste all of that now! What about your brother? What about _us_? Does your life really mean so little to you?!”

“Roy, calm down. You’re _scaring_ him.” Riza whispered sharply.

“He needs to hear this!”

“Roy!” She finally snapped, “ _Listen_. He was upset because he _hurt you._ He‘s afraid he’ll lose control and hurt you again, or somebody else, maybe fatally this time. He doesn’t have full control of himself and he’s _afraid_.”

The raven haired man paused to watch the streams of tears flowing from golden eyes, and felt his heart drop to his stomach. He squeezed the boy in his arms gently.

“Ed, I’m... so sorry.” His own voice was shaking now, embarrassed to be losing his composure in front of either of his subordinates, but after the hell he’d been through the past weeks, he figured it was understandable and he let his eyes water as he pulled the boy’s head to his chest. “For everything. I’m sorry I didn’t leave a guard with you. I’m sorry I didn’t find you faster. I’m sorry that this life is treating you like crap and I haven’t been able to stop it. I’m sorry that I’ve failed you.”

“Sh-shut up, b-bastard...” He heard the mumbling from the boy below him, and managed a strained chuckle. He knew that was Ed’s way of saying it wasn’t his fault, but he didn’t allow himself to accept it as such. It was too close to forgiveness and that wasn’t something he could swallow yet.

“Yeah, I am a bastard. But you don’t have to die because you hurt me. I know you feel like it’s the only way to keep people safe, but we can fix this. You’re not a monster, Ed. We’ll help you not to hurt anybody anymore. But we need you alive to do that, okay?”

“...Promise?”

“Promise.”

Golden eyes met onyx, and the pair felt a weight lifted from each of their shoulders. Something about the simple exchange and the solidity of a promise was overwhelmingly comforting to Edward and a refreshing relief to Roy. The three occupants sat silently on the floor for what could’ve been minutes or hours, each too afraid and honestly too tired to break the peaceful silence that had fallen over them. At last, Riza moved to stand, and Roy felt obligated to follow, adjusting the boy in his arms so that he was sitting upright.

“Has he eaten since last night?” Roy asked Riza, gently stirring the now dozing boy, trying to wake him enough to stand.

“No. He’s been vomiting since he woke up. There was blood. I already called Marcoh... he’ll be here tonight.”

“Okay.” Roy muttered, finally getting the kid back into consciousness. “Can you stand, Ed? Let’s try to get you some more broth. We need to get your strength up.”

“Don’t wanna eat... I’ll get sick again...” The drowsy boy muttered with a surprising amount of effort, his exhausted body protesting the exercise of his vocal chords.

“We’ll take things slow. Your stomach will just eat itself if we keep letting you starve. I don’t want you to have to go on any feeding tubes.”

Roy was right, he knew, but that didn’t make the thought any less nauseating.

“Come on,” Roy urged, his hands under the boy’s shoulders and Riza gripping his flesh hand, lifting him as he groaned in protest. He tried to walk, but they ended up all but carrying him to the dining room table. He was vaguely aware of the sounds of clinking as Riza heated his broth and grunting as Roy fixed his overturned furniture, dozing on and off until a mug was placed before him, jolting him awake.

“Here you go,” He heard Riza’s voice, but it sounded like she was... far away. Or behind a wall. “I thought sipping from a mug would be easier than dealing with the spoon.”

Ed took several small sips, but with his eyelids frequently weighing down and closing, he hadn’t even finished 1/4 of the mug’s contents before he decided it was safest to set it down, the darkness finally lulling him into unconsciousness in the dining room chair.

Roy sighed, watching the boy fall limp in the chair and start to gently snore, and didn’t wake even with a gentle knock on his back door.

“Doctor,” Riza greeted as she opened the door, “This way, please.”

“Which one am I here to treat?” Marcoh scoffed as he took in the two men at the table, Edward unconscious in a sweating mess and Roy with blood seeping through his bandaged neck.

“Ideally both... but Edward is in the most urgent need. He’s been vomiting blood.”

“You gave him the medicine I provided?”

“Yes, he drank it, but he’s vomited a lot since then.”

“Help me get him to the couch.”

Roy moved to lift Edward bridal style, but Marcoh quickly intervened and muttered something about not straining his wound before lifting the boy’s legs as Roy grabbed his shoulders. Marcoh opened his bag and began working with a strange mix of tools that Roy gave up trying to understand. After an exam that seemed to satisfy Marcoh and a quick shot of what Roy assumed were painkillers, the doctor stood and faced the pair.

“I gave him some medicine that should help his pain and hopefully his nausea. From now... it’s just a matter of keeping him comfortable, really.”

“...What do you mean?”

“Roy, I know you’re not a dense man. I already explained to you what has happened. In the transmutation, more than just his outside appearance changed. His insides have mixed and matched and melded with inhuman ones, creating a mush of vaguely working organs that will soon fail him...” Marcoh sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He’s not going to live, Roy. There’s no surgery I can perform or medicine I can give to help him. I don’t believe he can even properly digest food right now, hence the vomiting. That’s why, for his sake, I suggested—“

“So I just have to fix him.” Roy stated. The doctor stared at him, dumbfounded.

“And how do you figure you’ll do that?”

“I’ll reverse the transmutation. Certainly if there’s a way to create this, there’s a way to take it apart. I have his notes. Once I figure out how he’s done it, I can simply reverse the concept.”

“Even if you somehow manage to figure out how the hell to do that, you’d need advanced knowledge of medical alchemy to repair the damage already done. If you just tear out an animal part that somehow happens to be keeping a human part intact... well, you could kill him.”

“He’s going to die anyway if I do nothing.”

“...You’re a madman, Roy Mustang.”

“Probably.”

—-

“Brother... how could this happen to him?”

Havoc stared out of the window as the train rolled along its tracks, bumping gently here and there but an overall smooth ride. The two were sitting across from each other on either end of the compartment.. They were on the evening train to make the “funeral arrangements” in Central, so he needed to catch the boy up on as much as he could in the meantime.

“It’s not fair.” Havoc nodded, “But, it’s true, so we’ll need to figure out where to go from here.”

“Why don’t we... turn him back?”

“Do what now?”

“Certainly if there’s a way to do it, there’s a way to undo it, right?”

“I don’t know anything about all this alchemy nonsense, but I can tell you that I don’t think it works like that.”

“It can. It’s complicated, but the idea isn’t impossible. Maybe with Alkahestry, we can—“

“Al, you can talk to the Colonel about it, just please... don’t get your hopes up. You know full well what happened last time you and the Chief got... carried away.”

“...Yeah. I know.”

The rest of the evening ride was continued in silence, until Havoc lulled into an uneasy sleep as Alphonse stared out at the passing scenery.

—-

There wasn’t a single part of Ed’s body that *wasn’t* in pain. Through his murky thoughts, he couldn’t pinpoint a single spot that hurt even slightly less than the rest, and he considered that maybe he wasn’t just _in_ pain, maybe he _was_ pain. That made sense, right? No? No.

He became increasingly aware of a voice talking to him, but with the way his head throbbed, he did wish that the world would just be silent for once. But alas, nothing ever did go his way.

“Ed? Ed! Can you hear me?”

God, it was the Colonel Bastard. As if he wasn’t in enough agony already, now he had to deal with _that_ pain in the ass. He was like an annoying parent trying to wake their kid for school—except Edward had no school, no job, no responsibilities whatsoever at the time being... so why couldn’t he just shut up and leave him alone—?!

Ugh. The whispers. They were starting again... whispers from voices of strangers that he knew all too well, gnawing and clawing at his brain, mostly gibberish but as of late, brief moments of coherency had been slipping through, as the other beings in his conscious learned words from Edward’s own head. They begged him to relax, to let them take the wheel, to—

_Kill_.

Ed startled awake, jumping upwards and inadvertently landing in the Colonel’s arms. He could feel the sweat trickling down his neck and back, his breath labored and his face growing red in embarrassment as he realized he was grasping onto the Colonel’s shirt.

“Easy...” The older man steadied the boy, eventually easing him back down onto the pillow as glazed confusion swam over his golden eyes. “Are you with me, Ed?”

“Yeah...” His voice had a slight slur but he seemed as coherent as Roy could expect in his condition.

“I just wanted you to know your brother is on his way. Havoc gave him the news and he insisted on hopping on the first train here.”

“No,” Edward shook his head. He didn’t remember why, but for some reason he didn’t want his brother here with him. Why was that...?

_A metallic taste in his mouth, Mustang’s grunt of pain, red pouring down pale skin..._

That’s right. He was dangerous.

“I don’t want... Al to see me like this.”

“I understand. But this is Al we’re talking about... there’s no separating him from you.” Roy chuckled softly, “Besides, he’ll be... more beneficial to your recovery, I think. I’m not very good at, as they say... _bedside manner_.”

“That’s the understatement of the year.” Ed groaned. “I just don’t know if… Al can handle this, you know? He knows I’m alive, that’s good enough…”

“Edward. I know you know that him knowing you’re alive is not enough for a kid like Al. He’ll kick this door down as soon as he gets here, whether I tell him what you want or not.”

Edward sighed, resigning himself and trying to sit upright again.

“When will he get here?”

“Probably three hours from now, tops.”

“Can you help me… make myself more presentable, before he gets here?”

\---

After another struggle of a bath, clean clothes, and brushed and tied hair, Edward was now sitting uncomfortably on Roy’s couch, awaiting the knock on the door. His stomach was twisting more and more with anxiety, excited to see his brother again after so long but having the feeling overwhelmed with fear. He couldn’t live with himself if he hurt his brother. He already knew his appearance alone will cause him emotional pain, but if he attacked Al like he attacked Roy… he couldn’t stomach the thought.

Knock, knock, knock.

Oh God. Oh no. He changed his mind… he couldn’t do this, he definitely could _not_ do this. He tried to beg Roy not to answer, but as the older man took strides towards the door, the noise did not escape his throat. He had the violent urge to vomit, and he shut his eyes as tears began to form in them. His ears rang, the voices within him screeched and growled, and he wanted to scream. He had to keep himself together. For Al. For Al. For Al...

Cold metal engulfed his skin, shaking arms circling around him, and Ed willed himself not to flinch out of the touch. He opened his eyes, slowly, and saw the back of Al’s armor and Roy and Havoc watching on from the doorway. His frail arm reached around his brother’s form, as the younger of the two whispered words that Ed’s tired brain couldn’t even decipher. If the armor could cry, he definitely would be, but instead, Ed was crying for the both of them. Shaking sobs ripped through the blonde’s throat, tears streaming down his face and onto the shiny metal of his brother’s armor. Ed clutched Al’s back as Al squeezed tighter, hanging on desperately to the lifeline they had in each other, neither willing to let go. Ed choked out strained I missed you’s while Al whispered a mantra of apologies, until it turned into the comfortable hush of Ed’s gentle snores, still encased in his brother’s arms.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! As per usual, this is still on a slow update warning... a big thank you to everyone for your patience with me and for the kudos and comments. I’m also happy to announce, that on top of this chapter, I already have the next chapter half completed and am really hoping to finish/post it over the weekend. What’s that, you say? Two chapters in one week? Yes! A huge thank you once again, and I hope you guys enjoy!

As soon as the sleeping blonde was laid onto his bed and Al clicked the door behind him, he locked eyes with the Colonel waiting right outside the guest room.

“We can—“

“—fix him.“

Though the tinny, youthful voice was distinctive from the deep baritone of the older alchemist’s, the two seemed to blend into one as they both said the same words in perfect sync. Even though Al’s body couldn’t breathe, it felt like he let out a breath he’d been holding, and his shoulders relaxed. He’d been worried the older alchemist would disagree, seeing it as too risky. That’s one obstacle avoided, anyway.

“Come to my study, Alphonse.”

—

The Colonel’s study was almost exactly as Al had envisioned—it was tucked away in the basement, away from the noise of the city. It wasn’t as cluttered as the Elrics’ study was, but it wasn’t quite as pristinely kept as the rest of the house. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and sketches of arrays and concepts hung from a board next to an opulent fireplace. His desk was large enough for two chairs, should Al need to share it, and the dark wood was topped with open books, an ink well, and an empty cup that likely held coffee earlier that day judging by the brown stain around the rim. The room smelt vaguely of herbs and charcoal.

Yes, this was definitely the Flame Alchemist’s study.

“Last night, I loaned a few books and pulled enough materials to at least get us started with working on some ideas. I have copies of journals found at the scene, as well as Shou Tucker’s research notes.”

“That should give us a good start. I also wrote a letter to a friend in Xing last night, to try to get some information from her.”

“Xing?”

“Xing’s Medicinal Alkahestry is a lot more advanced than Medicinal Alchemy, and I’m hoping it might help us out.”

Roy nodded. It’s not just a matter of taking the unwanted pieces off of Edward’s body—he has to consider that they have to put everything back together, too.

With that, the Colonel set a pile of research materials on the desk, and they dug in.

—

Although Al lived in his brother’s shadow of being the youngest State Alchemist in history, Roy soon learned that Edward isn’t the only Elric who is an alchemical prodigy. In the span of a few hours, the two already had an idea of how one can create a human chimera and were dissecting the process. The first step of figuring out how to reverse it is to figure out how to do it in the first place—so they had one foot in the door, at least.

“You said it appears he’s not the only presence in his conscious?” Al scratched his helmet—he didn’t itch, but it somehow felt satisfying nonetheless.

“Yes. He frequently switches from himself to more... animalistic behaviors. My guess is that his body isn’t the only thing he got from what he was fused with.”

“That makes things a lot more complicated.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because now we have to figure out how to split them from Edward on more than just a physical level. It’s not just a physical procedure; it’s splitting souls.”

“Souls, huh... I hadn’t looked at it from that perspective. They’re animals, Alphonse. I’m not sure they necessarily have souls.”

Al cocked his head in confusion. There was something painfully innocent about the action, and it slapped Roy with the reminder of just how young these brothers are. He tried to push the thought away, for now.

“Everything has a soul, Colonel.”

Roy coughed.

“That’s a fair theory... but how will we tackle that? This gets more into the lines of human transmutation—well, in a way. Human-animal, I suppose.”

The Colonel rubbed his head and Alphonse leaned back in his seat, both brains stirring for a solution.

“How about your blood seal?” The Colonel suggested, “It’s clearly possible to tie a soul to an object. Could we just seal the animal’s souls into objects outside of his body?”

“That... could work. As you said, though, this is in the territory of human transmutation. By the laws Equivalent Exchange, we need a sacrifice to seal a soul. My blood seal is how Ed lost his arm.”

“Surely there’s some sort of loophole.”

“I don’t know. There’s always a price to be paid...”

“I suppose. But still,” Roy said through a yawn, “It’s the only lead we really have for now.”

After the Colonel’s yawn, Al was quick to notice his slumped shoulders and the darkness starting to form beneath his eyes.

“You should sleep, Colonel. We’ve been at this since last night, and I bet the sun is rising by now. I’ll go sit with Brother.”

Roy opened his mouth to protest, but all that came out was a yawn, and he had no real choice but to agree.

—

Al was right—the sun had long since risen, and Riza was tidying herself up in the entryway mirror to prepare for work. Roy crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder against the wall, staring at her for just a moment, knowing she had surely noticed him by now but taking advantage of the fact that she had yet to bring his lingering gaze to attention, in favor of focusing on tying her hair. To anybody but Roy, his Lieutenant would look as pristine and sharp as she always does, her stance radiating professionalism and with a hint of intimidation. But for Roy—who had known her since the innocence of their teen years—he noticed the way her shoulders laid slightly below her usual posture, the distant look in her eyes, and the wrinkle or two pressed into her uniform.

“You have always had a bad habit of gawking, Colonel.”

Riza hadn’t even needed to glance towards him, simply continuing on with buttoning her coat, making eye contact with her reflection instead. This made one corner of the Colonel’s lips slip into a small smirk, closing his tired eyes and pressing more of his weight into the side of the wall.

“At nobody but you, Lieutenant.”

“As my commanding officer, one might deem that to be inappropriate.”

With that, Roy opened his eyes once more, taking a few long strides towards the blonde. Once he was close enough that he could feel her breath on his neck, he stopped, staring softly into her sherry eyes, his smile growing.

“Why are you suddenly concerned about being ‘ _inappropriate_ ’ outside of work?” The words were whispered, teasing almost, but the Lieutenant’s gaze only hardened.

“Since we’re now at threat of me being seen leaving your house every morning at sunrise.” She responded seriously, before softening her own expression. “Nobody suspects anything right now. But if I’m seen, your career will be destroyed. We need to stay distant from each other as much as we can, until this blows over.”

The Colonel bit his lip, averting his gaze. _Why does my career even matter all that much, anyway?_

He decided against voicing those thoughts. He couldn’t let her know he was reaching a bad place again. So he nodded gingerly, still not meeting her eyes. It was her turn to smile now, reaching out and instinctively smoothing out his wrinkled sweater, and the way her fingers brushed against his chest made him wish her gentle touch would stay just a second longer.

“Go to sleep, now. You’re tired.”

“So are you.” The Colonel mumbled. “You should’ve taken the full bereavement you were offered.”

“Somebody has to hold down the fort and keep plans in order. You have Havoc and Al, so you’ll be fine for awhile. I’m going to start staying at my place again, to lower the risk of suspicion.”

“Do you have to?”

She let out a gentle exhale, almost a laugh, but a bit sadder than that. Roy sounded like a child, almost—alone in intimate moments like this, with the mask of an arrogant soldier removed, Riza remembered just how vulnerable and tired the man beneath it was.

“Call me if you need me.” Her voice was understanding, and a bit too soft for Roy’s liking, further alluding to the exhaustion beginning to set in the woman. Maybe taking time at her own place would be beneficial—she didn’t deserve to watch Ed waste away like this. It was his burden to bear.

“You do the same... call if you need me.” He mumbled, fully expecting a retort of _when have I ever needed you_ , but was surprised to find a soft warmth pressed against his lips instead. The contact was quick, but was truly made noticeable by the emptiness and longing it left behind when she pulled away, gathering her bag and heading towards the back door.

“Sleep well, Colonel. Don’t stay up any longer.” She spoke, louder now, her back straighter and her demeanor changing from Riza and back into The Hawk’s Eye. Roy hummed as the door clicked shut behind her. She was a soldier through and through, her ability to switch from a human to a dog of the military in a heartbeat outshined even his reputation. Unlike him, her mask never cracked. She was the star of the show long before he was, and had she only had the power of alchemy in her disposal, he wondered if their roles would be reversed—her on her way to the top of the ladder, with him one step behind, keeping it steady.

He sighed as he padded up the stairs and to his bedroom, passing the door to the guest room and hearing Alphonse recite some line from one of the Colonel’s many alchemy books to Edward—who was likely either already asleep or falling into it. He chuckled at the thought of an alchemy textbook as a bedtime story, but was unsurprised regardless, knowing the Elrics. His vision faded black almost as soon as his head hit his pillow, and he relaxed into sleep whilst listening to the echoes of Alphonse’s tinny voice reverberating off of the wall beside him.

—

When Roy awoke, he realized he was unconscious for more than just a couple hour nap—but rather, it appeared the sun was rising over the _next day_. He blinked in confusion, unsettled by the realization, but he supposed it seemed logical that his body just needed the rest. Quietly, he lifted himself up from his bed, and shuffled down the stairs—where he found Riza, readying herself in the hallway mirror. He felt disoriented, and groggy, and confused as to why she was even here when she had said only yesterday that she would be returning home for the time being. He stared on, his arms crossed, his mind reeling.

“You have always had a bad habit of gawking, Colonel.”

He knew those words. _He’d lived this before._

Before he could even voice his realization, the mirror that Riza was staring into cracked, and she _screamed_. She let out a raw, anguished scream that he’d only heard from her lips once before, and she fell into a crumpled heap on the ground. Then he noticed the heat.

All around him, all at once, flames began to engulf his home—and as he ran to Riza’s aid, they began to swallow her, too... her coat burning off of her body to display the scarring on her back and the remnants of words he was too nauseous to quite finish burning. She was long lost to the flames, he realized, as her screams began to die. But they weren’t alone. Edward. He had to get to Edward.

Running up the burning stairs, ignoring the pain in his legs as the flames licked them, he threw the door of the guest bedroom open to find Edward—or rather, what he assumed was Edward at one point—crumpled in the corner, flames devouring his flesh and his burnt, blackened wings all but melting off of him. It was too late.

“Colonel.”

_Oh God_ , Alphonse was here. He’d seen it all.

“This is all your fault, you know.” His tinny voice accused, coldly, as he reached through the flames for his brother’s charred body. “He’s dead, because of you. We all are.”

He’s right. Roy knew that.

“Colonel.”

He was on the ground now, dry heaving, as the flames began to engulf him, too.

“ _Colonel!_ ”

He felt nothing, as the flames swallowed him whole, and as his vision began to turn white... he wished he did. He wished to feel the pain of those he’s inflicted the same onto.

“ _Wake up!_ ”

When Roy awoke for real this time, he found himself on the verge of hyperventilating, upright in his bed and clinging onto a metal arm. He made eye contact with the glowing red eyes in Alphonse’s helmet, before shakily turning to look out the window. It was still only late morning, early afternoon at the most, proving he’d truly only been asleep for a few hours. Alphonse was talking to him, he knew that much—but he couldn’t make out a word through the drumming in his ears and his reeling brain. His trembling hands released the boy’s gauntlet, and he quickly cleared his throat, willing his body to stop shaking and at least save some face.

“I’m sorry, Alphonse,” He drawled, interrupting the boy’s worried mantra. “That hasn’t happened... in a long time. It shouldn’t happen again.”

“Don’t be sorry, Colonel—“

“Where’s Havoc?”

Alphonse sighed, irritated by the man’s stubborn changing of the subject. It was all too much like his brother’s stubbornness—the stubbornness that had caused Ed so much pain and struggle so far. He imagined it was the same for the older alchemist.

“He’s gone shopping. He said you have no decent food.” Alphonse explained, standing up from his kneeling position beside the Colonel’s bed.

“I have plenty of decent food.” Roy scoffed, “Come on, I’ll make some breakfast.”

  
—

Al watched as the man maneuvered his kitchen. He saw Havoc’s point. For the size of the kitchen, it contained very little. Canned soup and boxes of broth in the cabinet, a carton of eggs, a gallon of milk, and a package of chicken in the ice box. It very much reflected the rest of the house—it was the size of a proper Colonel’s house, but contained very little.

“Alphonse, can you please light the fireplace? I don’t want your brother to get cold.”

Roy watched as Al’s eyes flickered to the ignition gloves in the man’s rear pocket, a questioning glint in the red eyes, but the look in the man’s eyes was pleading. _Please don’t ask questions._ So, he didn’t. The Colonel had to bite back the sigh of relief—he had neither the energy nor willpower to explain this to the boy.

There was a long silence, as Al used the fire poker to gently prod the freshly lit logs, and Roy stirred the eggs in the pan. Al looked at him for a minute, then back to the fire. Then once more, for a good long while this time.

“It’s okay, you know. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

Roy tried to ignore the boy’s words. It didn’t work, he realized, as his hands started to tremble again.

“Brother has nightmares, too. And flashbacks. Sometimes he can’t use his alchemy or it’ll trigger it. It’s okay.”

“Edward is a _child_ ,” Roy seethed, instantly regretting the tone he took with the boy as he watched the armor flinch just slightly. “It’s more... _normal_ , for him.”

“He may be a child on the outside, I guess. But he’s as strong as even the Fuhrer, on the inside. So if it’s okay for him, it’s okay for you.”

There was a long stretch of silence, of stillness, as Roy still had his hand on the spatula but wasn’t stirring and Al was still holding the fire poker but wasn’t prodding. But it was okay. The silence was okay. The stillness was okay.

They would be okay.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I said like a month ago that I’d be posting the next chapter “next weekend”? I honestly have no excuses and am just a terrible human being

_Dearest Alphonse,_

_I hope this finds you well. I’m deeply saddened to hear the news of your brother—I’m sending you my best wishes and condolences. You requested some pretty interesting info from me, and as it’s related to human transmutation, I pray you aren’t thinking about doing anything stupid. I do trust you, however, so I found everything I could for you. Included are excerpts from a few Xingese books that I’ve translated for you, as well as my own research notes._

_Never forget that you’re always welcome here in Xing! I’ll be anxiously awaiting your next visit._

_Sincerely,  
Mei Chang_

Al sighed as he shifted through the documents, pulling the ones that first caught his eye, such as “Advanced Medicinal Alkahestry: Internal Damage” and setting the rest aside for inspection later.

“Anything useful?” The Colonel asked, a twinge of hope in his tired voice. Al nodded in response, handing the man a few stacks of papers containing Mei’s neat handwriting, as well as a few pictures and sketches.

“I’m going to go check on brother, while you read. I’ll be back to help in a moment.”

Al didn’t wait for a response before standing, knowing the older alchemist was already deep into the text. He gently prodded up the stairs and into the guest bedroom, where a familiar soldier sat beside the bed.

“How is he?” Al asked, cautiously.

“The same.” Havoc sighed, pinching his nose. “I think I need a smoke.”

“If you must,” Al winced—he hated the man’s smoking habits, but due to the circumstances, he thought it better to say nothing. “I’ll stay with Ed for now.”

The door clicked shut behind him and Al sank into the chair, feeling the weight of his armor sinking it slightly. He stared at the sickly pale blonde, beads of sweat sticking his hair to his forehead. Bleary golden eyes stared up at him, blinking slowly as if trying to process the scene.

Edward hadn’t been doing well. The sudden decline in his health had only begun a few days prior, but the effects were so rapid, they waited with bated breath to hear the worst. They were running out of time, and fast.

“Al...?” The blonde slurred, “‘s that you?”

“Yes brother,” Alphonse took his brother’s hand in his gauntlet, “I’m here.”

“Wh...ere... are we?”

“The Colonel’s house, brother.”

“Who?” He blinked, his eyes dazed and glassy. He winced, suddenly, squinting his eyes as if light had been shined in them. “It... hurts. I don’t... feel well. Where’s mom?”

“Edward, she’s...” Al shook his head. He couldn’t watch the grief in his brother’s face all over again. Edward didn’t need to remember, not yet anyway. “She’s napping. She’s also sick. You both have the flu. But you’ll get better, soon. You just need to rest.”

“Oh.” He nodded in understanding, although it was clear he wasn’t fully processing what Al was trying to tell him. He gripped tighter onto the younger Elric’s gauntlet, and Al watched in apprehension as Edward’s eyes widened at the sight of his own clawed hand. The elder brother suddenly seemed to remember it all, curling in on himself and squeezing his claws into the side of his arm as he trembled.

“Brother, you’re okay... I’m here...” Al brushed his gauntlet against the blonde hair, wiping it off of Ed’s forehead. The contact made Edward flinch. He was hyperventilating now, switching between wheezing and screaming and sobbing, and Al could almost see Edward leave and whatever else was in there with him took his place. He snarled and scratched at the boy’s armor, as the younger brother winced and reached for the ropes attached to the bed frame. It disgusted him, to resort to physically restraining his own brother... but when one day he came into the room to find the blonde in a puddle of blood from gashes he scratched and bit into his own skin, he decided it was a necessary measure.

“I’m sorry,” Al apologized quietly as his brother moaned and fought against the restraints. He knew it was for Ed’s own good, but that didn’t make him feel any less guilty as he watched the blonde pull and kick and whine before finally tiring himself out. Al brushed his gauntlet through the blonde hair once more, this time eliciting a snarl. Al tried not to be too hurt by it—it wasn’t really Ed in there right now, after all—and he proceeded with the gentle motion until the exhausted golden eyes finally shut in rest.

“Hey, I’m back.” Havoc whispered, quietly shutting the door behind him. “I can watch over him now. You should go check on the Boss... he really needs to get some rest, and believe it or not, he listens to you more than me.”

Al nodded. The Colonel also hadn’t been doing too well. The man’s already pale face had grown more gaunt with every meal he skipped and every hour of sleep he missed. His shaky mental state had grown more apparent in his exhaustion as well, his flashbacks and nightmares becoming more visible each day, with Al simply pretending not to notice as it clearly embarrassed the man. Overall, things were going pretty downhill.

“Colonel?” Al questioned as he walked back into the living room, watching as the Colonel stared intently out of the window beside the couch, his eyebrows knit and his eyes focused. “You should really go to be—“

“Al, I think I’ve got it.” The older alchemist’s head snapped to face his own, and the wild look that laid within the onyx eyes almost made Al recoil. “The key to sealing away those animals.”

“Oh?” Although disturbed by the man’s almost crazed expression, he was intrigued nonetheless. “Have you figured out a loophole for the sacrifice?”

“There was a stray cat, just now—in my trash bin. There’s so many of them in the city, huh?” The man smirked. Al fidgeted. “Could we not simply... seal the souls into one? The cat would be the sacrifice, and then revived through the seal.”

“You want an animal sacrifice?” Alphonse was officially concerned.

“No, it’s not truly, is it? It’ll just die for a minute.”

“No, it’ll be gone for good. Its body will live on with a new soul inside, but the original is dead nonetheless. Brother... he wouldn’t want anything to die for him. I don’t think we should do this.”

“Al, is the life of some street cat really more valuable than the life of your brother?”

The words stung. He knew the man meant no harm, he was simply desperate. Al was, too, of course he was... but he had to draw the line somewhere.

“Brother taught me that all lives are equivalent. A death is a death, and to fix brother through it is insulting him and what he stands for.”

“I’d rather insult his sensibilities than watch him die! He can hate me if he wants, but at least he’ll be alive.” The Colonel scoffed. “I know you feel the same.”

“Do you think I _want_ to watch my brother die? Do you think I wouldn’t do _anything_ to save him?” Al’s armor rattled as every word gained volume. “I would. But doing this wouldn’t _save_ him.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know that to you it’s just a cat. I get it. But my brother has spent his entire life surrounded by death, and he has spent his entire life hating himself... blaming himself, for it.” Alphonse clenched his gauntlet into a fist, “To my brother, who cherishes all life above his own—including the life of just a cat—and who already has a heavy heart full of guilt... what would this do to him?”

“Fine.” The Colonel threw his hands up in surrender. “What great idea do _you_ have then?”

“My idea is you go to bed and get some rest so that maybe you’ll start acting like _yourself_ again. You’re scaring me, Colonel.”

“I...” The man blinked dumbly. “I’m sorry, Alphonse.”

“Don’t be. Just go get some sleep. I’m going to go watch brother so that Havoc can sleep, too. We’ll brainstorm more in the morning.”

The man nodded, solemnly, and took his leave. The younger Elric sighed—he knew the Colonel’s idea was, in logical terms, pretty smart. He just couldn’t stomach the thought of it... maybe he was being selfish? If he had his own choice, would his brother truly have chosen to die rather than kill a single cat? He didn’t truly know anymore, and with Ed’s state, he couldn’t just ask him. But his brother is dying, the Colonel is losing his grip, and as for himself... he’s not doing so well, either, he realized.

Before he even noticed what he was doing, he was dialing a familiar number on the house phone. The Colonel was going to kill him, but this was his last hope. He just prayed it wasn’t too late.

_Ring ring._

It was late. Would there even be a response?

_Ring ring._

No, he was out of his mind. He should just hang up—

“Curtis Meats,” a tired voice rang out with annoyance through the line, and Alphonse had never been so relieved to hear the voice. “Izumi speaking.”

“Teacher.” Alphonse’s voice quivered ever so slightly.

“Alphonse?! Where have you been?!“ The housewife shouted, the pain in her voice almost unbearable. “We’ve been trying to contact you since... since we heard the news. I’m so sorry—“

“Teacher,” He cut her off, the shake apparent in his voice. “I can’t explain over the phone, but... I need help.”

It was moments like this that he was grateful for no body, so that he wouldn’t fall apart and lose himself in tears. He heard the gentle intake of air over the line, a deep mumble of “who’s on the phone, hun?” and a gentle shush.

“Where are you? We’ll be on the first train.”

—-

“You _what_?!”

“Colonel, I’m sorry, but it was my last hope.”

“You know how much danger he could be in if this is exposed!”

“No more danger than he’s already in. Hear me out, Colonel... we need some fresh perspective, here. If there’s anybody who can help us out, it’s the woman who taught me and Ed everything we know in the first place.”

“You’re right. I apologize for raising my voice. I... haven’t been myself, lately.” The Colonel ran his hand through his hair. “Besides, we really need someone to stay home and watch him. Tomorrow is his... funeral, after all. It’d be suspicious for any of us not to show up.”

Al nodded in agreement. They needed to act natural, for just a little while longer.

“Do the Curtis’ need anybody to pick them up, or do they know where to go?”

“No, they should come straight—“

_Bang, bang, bang!_

“—here.”

The raven haired man gulped slightly at the loud banging on his door, and Al moved to answer as he followed close behind. As soon as the door was unlocked, the dreadlocked housewife burst through, tackling Al in what could’ve either been a hug or an attack. Roy made eye contact with her husband in the doorway, who shook his head and shrugged. The raven haired man silently motioned to where he could set their bags, for which the older man nodded in thanks.

“Teacher,” Al gasped out through her clutches, “Thank you for coming.”

“You idiot, why didn’t you call me sooner?! I couldn’t get hold of Winry, or Pinako, or you... I found out through a newspaper!”

“Teacher, I’m sorry, but it’s a long story. Edward... he isn’t dead.”

“He... what?”

“Uh, let’s take a seat.” Roy interjected. “Tea, anyone?”

—-

“So let me get this straight,” Izumi grit her teeth, gripping her mug tightly enough that Roy worried it would break, if the woman didn’t impale him with the daggers she was staring into him first. “You got Edward back alive, and you’ve been hiding him away just letting those of us who care for him eat ourselves up thinking he’s _died_?”

“Teacher, that’s really unfair to the Colonel.” Al shook his head. “He’s doing his best to keep Ed safe—“

“Well he hasn’t been doing a great job so far! Ed needs his family!”

“I understand your anger with me, Mrs. Curtis, and I’m not going to ask you to feel any other way towards me.” Roy pinched the bridge of his nose. “I do ask you to understand, however, that these were Edward’s expressed wishes when we first recovered him. We were to tell nobody but Alphonse.”

Sig held his wife’s shoulder firmly.

“So why now?” Sig turned to Al, his voice deep but gentle.

“We thought we could figure out a way to turn him back on our own. We’ve gotten a lot drawn out for the theory, but... we’re stuck.”

“Al figured if anybody could help, it’d be you, Mrs. Curtis.” Roy nodded.

“...Can I see him?” Izumi set her mug full of now-cold tea down on the coffee table.

“Of course. Just know that it’s... a little hard to stomach.” Al squirmed.

“I understand. I just want to see him.”

There was a solemn silence, as Al led the couple up the stairwell, the Colonel following a few feet behind. The armor poked his head into the guest bedroom, whispering to Havoc. The disgruntled soldier briefly introduced himself to the Curtis’, before dismissing himself to allow the others entry.

Sig had to steady his wife’s shoulders as she clenched her stomach at the sight. Izumi had felt her world fall apart once before... as she held her lifeless stillborn son, screaming at the cruel world around her for taking a life so innocent. He didn’t deserve it. So, she tried to make it right. That’s all Ed had tried to do, too... he tried to right a wrong that the world had made. In his eyes, fate had accidentally taken an innocent life, and he was fixing that mistake. Seeing the form on the bed in front of her, she was ready to scream once more. Yet another innocent life was almost lost. He, of all people, who’d been through hell and back always for the sake of others... he didn’t deserve it.

Shivers wracked the boy’s feverish form, his bed covered in feathers that had paled and fallen off of his wings from illness. His ribs were visible through his loose t-shirt, his hair stuck to his forehead as sweat glistened on his face. His flesh hand was bloody and raw, and the claws protruding through his fingers were all too obvious. As if it was Truth’s cherry on top, a tail fell sickeningly from beneath his form and over the side of the bed.

Her world fell apart all over again.

She rushed to his side, her husband close behind, and held his hand in hers. Groggy golden eyes squinted open.

“T-Teacher...?”

“Yes, Ed. I’m right here.”

She rubbed his hand, and quickly felt the rope around his wrist.

“Why is he restrained?” She asked. She tried to sound angry. She couldn’t.

“He was hurting himself.” Al explained, pointing to the scars lacing his arms, and Izumi winced.

“Ed, why are you hurting yourself?”

“‘m not. Th-they... are. They are.” There was fear in his voice, but confusion as well. As if he was afraid, but couldn’t really put his finger on why. “Th-they don’t... like me, very much. Wanna be... in charge. Wanna be me.”

“Who, Edward? Who are they?”

“ _They_.” He said it as if it was obvious. She looked to Al for an explanation, and he just responded with a shake of his head. He’d explain later.

“I didn’ want... anybody to see. Why are you here?” Tears were in the blonde’s eyes, and she clenched his hand tighter. “Fixing me?”

“Yes, sweetie. We came to fix you. You’ll be fine, soon. We’re almost there.”

“Good. Don’ wanna be... monster, anymore.” He tried to scratch at his wings through his restraints. “Want it off.”

“You’re not a monster, Edward. The person who did this to you is.”

The boy didn’t respond, he just stared blankly at the ceiling. She hoped he heard him.

“Why don’t you sleep for awhile? I’m going to speak with your brother, but Sig will stay with you.”

The blonde nodded.

“Sleep well. I’ll see you a little later.”

“Goodnight, mom.”

The drifting boy didn’t realize, through his slurred words, what exactly he had done to the woman with that tiny word. She realized she was about to lose another son.

She stood up, after receiving a reassuring pat from her husband, and faced the Colonel.

“Show me what you have so far.”

—-

Izumi looked thoughtfully over the documents spread across the mahogany table, shuffling her fingers through a few of them. She definitely saw the dilemma, here.

“And that’s where we’re stuck. We can’t really find a loophole, to the equivalent exchange aspect.” Roy rubbed his temples as the woman scanned over the papers before her.

“Unless you’ve got a spare Sorcerer’s Stone laying around, we’re screwed.” Izumi sighed. “You’ve got a perfect formula here... but no loophole. We’ll have to sacrifice something.”

“This is stupid.” Al spoke up. “I mean, hasn’t brother paid enough? I feel like Truth owes us.”

“It feels like that, Alphonse, but as you know... this is the price we must pay for our ability to perform alchemy.”

“I’ll do it, then. I don’t have a body, what’s left for me to lose?”

“More than you’d think, Al. I’ll do it. I’ve already lost one son, I owe it to this one to not make the same mistake.”

“No.” The Colonel interjected, startling even himself with his firm tone. “We can’t give up this quickly. There’s no guarantee what Truth will take. Don’t offer yourselves up as sacrifices. You said it yourself, Al... Edward would hate himself for it.”

“I can’t believe I’d ever say these words, but I think the Colonel’s right by that. We don’t want to hurt Ed more. Let’s try to come up with another solution.” Izumi nodded. “It’ll be our last resort. But I’ll still do it, if I must.”

The three worked tirelessly over the papers, plans, and ideas. No sound was made besides the occasional comment or Havoc’s snoring as he napped on the couch behind them, Sig taking over to watch Edward so that the weary soldier could finally get some rest. Minutes turned to hours as the sun began setting, and the alchemists had come nowhere closer to a solution. Izumi closed the last book she had in her stack, and sighed... it had a certain sense of finality to it, their last hope exhausting her last resource with no ideas still, and all at once, it hit Al like a train. All the feelings he’d been choking down since the day Havoc came to his doorstep in Resembool washed over him, all the anxiety and the stress and the agony that his metal body couldn’t feel but his warm heart could. His brother was at death’s door and he was controlling the only choice standing between his life and his death. His armor was shaking, rattling now. He couldn’t feel pain, he’d thought... but oh God, in this moment, _yes he could_.

“Al, are you with us?” It was the Colonel, worry laced in his exhausted features. It was then that Al noticed he was hyperventilating, inhaling deep breaths he didn’t need, as his metal prison contained no lungs. He didn’t understand what was going on. He shouldn’t feel this way. He couldn’t feel this way.

“Colonel,” he gasped out, “I’m scared.”

“Alphonse, look at me.” It was Teacher this time, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s not fair. It’s not _fair_!” He nearly screamed it, and the Colonel remembered it truly was a child in that armor. “We’re gonna lose him. Really, really lose him. And we could save him! But it feels so wrong... all is one, one is all. You taught us that, Teacher. So why should I have to value one life over another?”

“Al...”

“Besides, hasn’t he paid enough? Haven’t we _both_?! What was all of this for, then? What was the point of me being trapped in this body, what was the point of Edward’s pain and guilt? What was the point of our years of research, and missions? If it was all going to come crashing down like this, to become so futile... what was the point?!”

“Alphonse. I understand what you’re saying, but...” Teacher rubbed the back of her neck. “Some things are pointless, and sometimes, bad things happen to good people. What was the point of losing my baby? What benefit did it bring the world?”

“None.”

“Exactly. Yet, it still happened... and there’s no changing it, no matter how we try. All we can do is try to make the best choice we can—“

She was cut off by a deep cough emitting from her lungs, followed by another, and another. Blood pooled into her hand as she clasped her stomach, and the Colonel began frantically rubbing her back.

“Mr. Curtis!” The raven-haired Alchemist shouted, and Sig came running down the stairs.

“Teacher! Take deep breaths!”

Raspy, blood filled coughing was the only sound that filled the room as Sig rubbed his wife’s shoulders and whispered soothing words into her ear. Havoc had woken and prepared the couch for her to be laid in, and Sig nodded in thanks. It was another fifteen minutes before the noise finally ceased—no more coughing, no more reassuring words, no more asking if she needed a doctor. Just a deep, heavy silence.

And a realization.

“Who’s watching Brother?” Al inquired, shifting nervously.

“Nobody,” Sig responded, “But he was asleep and restrained when I came down.”

“Okay. I’m going to go check on him.”

He was being paranoid, he knew. What was a few minutes unsupervised truly going to cause? He was asleep. He was restrained.

But as he neared the door, and began turning the handle, the feeling in the pit of his stomach grew.

A tiny gasp, armor clanking on his knees to the ground.

“Colonel! Come here, quickly!” He called out with the loudest voice he could muster, his voice still quivering regardless.

The bed was empty—ropes, chewed through and clawed at, spread across the mattress.

And his beloved brother lay sprawled on the floor, a pool of blood beneath him, his back free flowing with the red substance—his wings lay beside him, detached from his body, and his claws coated in fresh blood.


End file.
